A kinder, gentler Orange County

Today I get to start off the New Year with a great "growing up Orange County" memory that came to me from Tom Sandoval.

"My family movedÃ¯Â¿Â½ here from Roswell, New Mexico in 1951. We lived in a house at the corner of Newport and Bristol in Costa Mesa. It might have been county land then.Ã¯Â¿Â½ Housing was at a premium then and this place was previously the rental office of a motel. The other motel rooms of the place were rented as apartments. The back yard of this place was just off of the 17th green of the Santa Ana Country Club.

My brother Paul and I went to Paularino School, whichÃ¯Â¿Â½ was right on NewportÃ¯Â¿Â½ Boulevard and just across the street from the old Paulo Drive-In Theatre. (Corky note: THAT place has some memories, ay.) This school was just two rooms.Ã¯Â¿Â½ Each teacher taught three grades. My teacher taught 4-5-6 and doubled as the principal. SheÃ¯Â¿Â½ umpired softball games at lunch.

We all brought our lunches and ate outdoors on picnic tables or wherever. The "cool" guys ate behind the garage where the teachers parkedÃ¯Â¿Â½ theirÃ¯Â¿Â½ cars. My teacher was Mrs. Lola Stanley. I stillÃ¯Â¿Â½ have a picture of her. The school was a very idyllic kind of place. On rainy days we tossed a bean bag aroundÃ¯Â¿Â½ on the gravel driveway. The school had a maintenance/security /crossing guard named Mr. Cathcart. He helped us get across busyÃ¯Â¿Â½ Newport Blvd. He had a trailer on the school grounds and I wouldÃ¯Â¿Â½ visit him and listen to World Series games on his radio.

One of the highlights of the school year was putting on a play for Columbus Day. We all got to play a part in reliving the discovery of America.

One year at Christmas my brother Paul was given the honor of wearing the Santa Claus suit, since he was the biggest kid, and passing out candies to all the kids.

The major event I recall was when we got to go across the street to the lima beanÃ¯Â¿Â½ fields and gather upÃ¯Â¿Â½ the beans left behind by the harvesting machines. I imagine we got permission from the Segerstrom family since that land eventually became South Coast Plaza. We packaged up those beans and sold them to voters at the next electionÃ¯Â¿Â½ when they came to vote at the school polling place. We used that money for all the kids to ride the train into Los Angeles. We got to tour Olvera Street and City Hall.

I recall we had to trudge over a massive construction site that turned out to be the great Bunker Hill project. The school was just south of the intersectionÃ¯Â¿Â½ thatÃ¯Â¿Â½ was known asÃ¯Â¿Â½ the triangle. Main Street fromÃ¯Â¿Â½ Santa Ana, Newport Boulevard and MacArthur Boulevard all came together at that point. InÃ¯Â¿Â½ those days fromÃ¯Â¿Â½ that area you could see the lights of SantaÃ¯Â¿Â½ Ana since there was nothing to obscure the view.

I have a lot of memories like that. It would take a book to share them all."

And, as an extra added bonus, this week we open up the "Snake Pit." This is where you send me your "snaked" story and openly bust the evil serpent. Only catch is you have to name the snake (first names only) and identify yourself. Our first offering to the PIT came like this.

"My name is Kerry and I just started surfing last year. I just turnedÃ¯Â¿Â½ 50. It took me about 15 trips to finally get up. What aÃ¯Â¿Â½ difference a 10 footer makes. After about 20 trips for me IÃ¯Â¿Â½ make notice of a regular lady, who to me seems very skilled atÃ¯Â¿Â½ surfing. (Corky note: is this opposed to irregular?) I asked her name. It is Judy.

One morning we are both out,Ã¯Â¿Â½ and I have discovered that I am Goofy and can really only go left. IÃ¯Â¿Â½ start my paddle very early on one of the few waves and it was clearly mine.Ã¯Â¿Â½ Judy proceeds to take off late, goes right and actually rams me. SheÃ¯Â¿Â½ has the lame excuse to say "Sorry, but there are so few waves I hadÃ¯Â¿Â½ to get one."

Clearly she is way better than I and could have easilyÃ¯Â¿Â½ made the turn. This is at the "pink pole" at Dogpatch.

Now when I seeÃ¯Â¿Â½ her I ask, "Hey Judy, run anybody over lately?"Ã¯Â¿Â½ Maybe I should startÃ¯Â¿Â½ singing "Hey Jude." My singing would drive anyone out of the water."

Geeze bro, don't you know that at the "pink pole," chicks get any ride they want?

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